Hogwarts: A Tale of Princes & Princesses
by Zarliax
Summary: Hermione Granger is a young princess and future queen of Romania who is unwillingly sent off to Hogwarts School for Princes and Princesses. Even worse, she has somehow managed to catch the eye of a certain cocky, arrogant and illustrious git - ehm, Prince. Hermione x Draco
1. Prologue

On the tallest mountain of Romania, in an old brick tower high above the forest canopy sat the king and the young princess.

"Father, I do not wish to go," begged the young princess, her voice as sweet as honey. "Can't I stay here with Sir Dobby? He's been my advisor for all these years and is quiet capable of teaching me everything I need to know."

Her fate had been decided ever since birth, and like all her ancestors before her she would at age 12 be required to attend Hogwarts School of Princes and Princesses.

"There will be no further argument on this matter," replied the powerful voice of the king. "You will one day be in charge of ruling this country and I will not have you making a fool of yourself."

"But father," she pleaded desperately

But one look into his hardened eyes gave her the answer to her pleas, she would have no choice but to go and do as she was told, as a good princess should.

"Honestly Hermione, I don't understand why you're so against it. The years spent at Hogwarts were some of my greatest. And the future of Romania depends on you."

She knew the last bit was coming, but it didn't please her anymore to hear it. Her country's greatest allies Bosnia and Germany had both come about because of the friendships her father had forged with the King's of those nations in his years at Hogwarts. The school served more as a networking system for royals than an institute for education and she knew that it would be up to her to become chummy with those who held power.

The weeks to her departure went by with alarming speed and before she knew it was it was time to go.

Prior to her departure the young princess had made all the necessary arrangements to ensure that life within the castle would remain as peaceful as it had been in her presence.

For the barnyard pets she had left a detailed care guide to the stablemen which listed the appropriate feeding, bathing and leisure times for each of her pets with instructions of how and where each animal liked to be patted. To her friends Becky and Matilda she had written a lengthy letter expressing her deepest regret at having to leave and an official letter of permission which allowed their continued use of her tea and play rooms. And with the help of Sir Dobby, her tutor, she wrote countless letters of thanks to everyone from the fisherman to royal administrator for all the assistance they had given her during the twelve years she had lived there.

When she finally left the castle walls, she had given a hundred farewells, and was pink cheeked, and puffy eyed by the time her carriage arrived. Her large purple suitcase in which she had packed all her most precious belongings was loaded in beside her and her favorite companion Crookshanks sat idly on her lap.

With a parting glance at the castle, she set off for the adventures that waited.


	2. Chapter 1

The countryside was a vast beautiful winter's white and tiny snowflakes fell in steady trickles washing away the footsteps of yesterday. It was a pleasing thing, watching the snowfall and she couldn't help swinging her head out the carriage window to taste the refreshing goodness. This she knew would surely have her mother in a fit and would be something that was absolutely forbidden at her new school.

So as it would most likely be the last bit of snow she'd ever have the privilege of tasting, she stuck her tongue out as far as it would reach, arched her head right back so that her hair dangled dangerously out into the cool winter's breeze and stayed there for as long as she was permitted.

"What are you doing with you're tongue out like that?" Asked a boy.

Caught off guard, she blushed a deep shade of red, embarrassed by the unladylike state in which she had been caught. Her mind whizzed meticulously to figure out a way she could 'play it cool', but thinking of nothing, she gave a lame, "Just tasting the snow."

The boy's eyebrows raised an inch and a look of disgust was plastered on his face, " You must be the peasant children father warned me about." He smirked, " Enjoy the snow while you can because scum like you don't get let out of the dungeons much."

She didn't get a chance to reply for he gracefully took off, his nose pointed distinctly towards the sky. _I wonder what his problem is_ she thought to herself. She hadn't even step foot into the castle and she had already made a fool of herself.

The rest of the ride was grim and depressing and any excitement she had previously had towards the school had been completely depleted. She now felt an inner dread and loathing so strong that it poisoned the air within the carriage and made even Crookshanks grumpy for he tried to claw her face off twice and refused to eat his dinner. The hours seemed to drag on and on as she got ever closer to her destination and by nightfall, she was so emotionally exhausted that she completely forgot where she was when the carriage came to its eventual halt.

"Firs' years! Firs' years!" Roared a man as big as a boulder, "Gather round! Firs' years!"

She hoped out her carriage, and hurried towards the man. "Okay is this everyone?" The man was five times her height and looked as if he could easily flip a car. "Me name's Hagrid and I'm the Gamekeeper here. Now follow me, we'll be takin' the pumpkins over the lake."

" I'm sorry," Said the girl in front of her "Did you say pumpkins?"

The giant gave a light chuckle. "Yep, just like in the stories."

She followed the crowd of excited children out towards the lake and was surprised to find that the giant hadn't been lying when he had said pumpkins.

Hovering idly above the lake were a dozen balls of bright orange, each with a little light hanging from its center. They marched up the wooden planks of the jetty and one by one began to sort themselves amongst the pumpkin carriages that lay ready to transport them.

Looking around she found that most of the pumpkin carriages had already filled and many young girls and boys were now happily exchanging greetings and recounting events of their holiday. Figuring that she ought to get a move on, she followed the red haired girl in front of her and scrambled into a somewhat emptier pumpkin.

" Okay everybody ready? Keep your hands in and be careful not to leave anythin' loose," said Hagrid.

The pumpkins ascended swiftly across the water and a world of beauty was created before her. Swarms of bright yellow fireflies flew busily above the twinkling water and every now and then large fantailed sea monsters jumped up to feast on them. Tiny water pixies weaved spiral galaxies around them and as they neared the center of the lake she could hear voices as fine as silk singing melodies of transcending beauty.

"That must be the merfolk song," said a freckled boy across from her

"Isn't it beautiful," said a girl in reply " I wish I could sing like that."

The voices were indeed beautiful and she felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her as she sat and listened to the enchanting voices. "Your shoe!" Shouted the red haired girl to a boy, Hermione looked down at the boys feet just in time to see a pair of pale hands disappear into the lake with the boy's left shoe.

"What was that?" She asked in astonishment. "The merfolk of course," said the freckled boy from before "don't you know why the merfolk sing?" Nobody said anything and the boy gave a huff before explaining, "deep beneath the oceans face, awaits the merfolk's warm embrace. Their music bewitching many souls, their fingers reap what they needn't sow."

"So then they're thieves?" asked the red haired girl.

"Precisely" replied the boy " No better then scum actually."

The remainder of the trip was travelled in silence as each was left to dwell on their own thoughts about the merfolk and wonder what other creatures called the lake their home.

They soon drew near the jumble of towers and battlements that was Hogwarts castle and she could feel her stomach twist with nervousness as they sailed over the last few lengths of the lake.

"Okay everybody up!" Cried Hagrid "Quickly now, we gotta' hurry before the Sorting ceremony beings."

"What's the Sorting ceremony?" She asked the red haired girl.

"It's where they sort you into the different school houses. There's four of them: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. I hope I'm in Gryffindor, everyone in my family's been in Gryffindor and it would just be horrid if I wasn't. I'm Ginny by the way." The girl's eyes seemed to dart all over as she nervously fidgeted with her fingers.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Hermione. So what's Gryffindor like?" She asked, not having realized how important schoolhouses were. Her father who had been a Ravenclaw himself had only briefly told her about the different houses and she could fleetingly remember him saying that Ravenclaws were supposed to be the brainiest of the bunch.

"Gryffindor's are said to be the bravest of the lot, the famous knight Sir Alastor Moody was a Gryffindor and many of Europe's greatest Musketeers were Gryffindor's too." Said Ginny.

"Oh wow that does sound cool," She replied. Sir Alastor Moody was the greatest knight who had ever lived, every child in Europe had been brought up with the tales of his conquests. He had slain dragons, hunted trolls and single handedly faced an army of Calvary men in the War of the Roses.

"May I please have you attention," Said a sharp-looking woman with an emerald coloured cloak. "Welcome to Hogwarts, my name is Professor McGonagall and I am the Headmistress here. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but first you will be sorted into your school houses."

They followed her through the large halls of the castle in a single file. The interior of the castle was styled much like a museum and the exposed limestone brick was covered in large portraits, glass cabinets with old antiques and elegant draped curtains.

They at last came to a set of giant double doors as grand as the gates to Disneyland. Professor McGonagall knocked twice and the doors gracefully whooshed open revealing the most peculiar garden she had ever seen.

A pleasant smell of peaches and apple trees lingered in the air and tulips of every colour of the rainbow flourished in neatly kept garden beds. Large stone pillars sprouted up on either side of a cracked cobbled path, paving the way to a colossal Roman gazebo in the center of the garden where the rest of the school sat along four long stone tables. Small fire foxes spied from behind oak trunks and tiny finches fluttered in and out of trees humming songs of joy.

The first years were ushered to the front and a white bearded man addressed them. " Good evening and welcome to Hogwarts! My name is Professor Dumbledore and I am the headmaster of this delightful school. I hope you have all had a pleasant holiday and are ready for another exceptional year at Hogwarts. We will now commence the Sorting ceremony."

Four magnificent fairies glided through the night, their wings glowing a vibrant gold as they danced between the students.

"Welcome all from far and wide

We four fairies will be your guide

To choose the house you'll serve with pride

And fight in battle side by side

Perhaps you'll be a Gryffindor

And chase the tigers from our shore,

Or maybe you're a HufflePuff

Who values trust and loyalty

Or in the house of RavenClaw

Where those of wit and learning dwell

Or maybe you're a Slytherin  
Who'll one day rule the world we're in

Put on our little crown

And don't be afraid, we wont let you down

Now lets find out where you belong!"

A royal throne appeared in the center of the stage and Professor Mcgonagall started reading names off a long scroll of parchment.

"Luna Lovegood."

An eccentric looking blonde girl skipped airily towards the throne and the fairies placed a delicate silver crown on top of her head. All was silent as the rest of the school watched, their eyes wide with anticipation.

"Hmmm," Said one of the fairies "She's definitely bright"

"And I sense a bit of wit in there too" Said another

" Yes, and adventurous" Said the third

"Then I know just the place for her" Said the fourth

"RavenClaw!"

The silver crown shone a vivid blue and the table to the far left cheered with delight as the blonde headed girl joined them.

Hermione felt her stomach do backflips, bright? Witty? Adventurous? Could the fairies really pick all that up within just a few seconds? What if she had nothing special or interesting about herself, what if she was just too boring for any of the houses. She didn't see herself as very brave or caring, she definitely wasn't cunning and she wasn't nearly as smart as her father.

Then the most horrid thought passed through her head…. What if she was expelled?


	3. Chapter 2

**I realised that I may have made a slight muck up with the ages and have decided that it would be more sensible if Hermione were 17 as opposed to 12 (for plot sake.) Can I do that?**

* * *

The warm morning sunlight flickered through the gaps between the giant curtains and Hermione Granger slowly awoke from her slumber.

"Morning Hermione," said Ginny as she wrestled with a dwarf who had stolen one of her socks.

Her eye adjusted to the bright red and gold room, a happy reminder that she too had been sorted into Gryffindor house.

Giant crimson coloured curtains hung from golden lion shaped curtain holders and magnificent paintings were scattered randomly along the red and gold walls of the circular dorm. She and Ginny had been assigned a dorm on the fifth floor of the great Gryfinndor tower and the two had quickly set to work to make the place more "homey." There were various pieces of Irish décor sorted around the room, a moderate sized statue of a silver Dragon, a Romanian omen of good luck, and a dozen empty gummy bear packets littered across the floor.

"Hurry up Hermione, you don't want to be late for the first day of school right?" Said Ginny who finally had her sock from the dwarf and was now scavenging around the room for her textbooks and quill.

Hermione reluctantly separated from the softness of the Egyptian cotton, and dragged herself unceremoniously to their shared bathroom, all whilst bumping into various pieces of furniture on her way.

By the time the two had made their way down to the great hall they discovered that most of the school had already finished, and that breakfast had apparently started at six in the morning.

Nevertheless, with rumbling tummies and man sized appetites the pair made their way gracefully towards the stupendously sized buffet table where their senses were overwhelmed by the delicious smells of a million different foods.

"Am I in heaven?" She heard Ginny whisper.

"How on earth are we suppose to act civil when they present us with all this!" Said Hermione.

"Do you think we're allowed seconds? Or fifths?"

* * *

Once breakfast had finished and the pair had stuffed themselves with enough food to feed a village, their timetables were distributed and they discovered that the whole of Gryffindor house had been placed in all the same classes.

"Ugh I can't believe our luck," Said Ginny as her eyes skimmed over her timetable, "We've got ballroom dancing first up."

"It says here that we need to change into our gowns" Replied Hermione, dreading the very idea of the class.

Sir Dobby had taught her ballroom dancing once before, but quiet unsuccessfully as she was someone who would be described as having two left feet. She remembered one incident where her left heel managed to catch onto the frills of her gown, which resulted in a painfully twisted ankle.

"I don't think I can fit into my gown after all that food" Said Ginny gripping her protruding belly as emphasis.

"Yeah me neither." Said Hermione "Do you think they'll believe us if we say we got sick from last nights food?"

"Hmmm, worth a try."

It unfortunately turned out that neither of the two girls had the guts to skip the first class of the year, no matter how dreadful it was bound to be, and it was evident that they were both too scared to find out what happened to those who were caught skipping classes.

So, after stumbling down the various corridors of Hogwarts castle the two eventually found their way to a large chapel-like classroom. The class had already begun and Professor McGonagall was at the center of a circle of dull looking students. Hermione noticed that the Gryffindors were all on the left half of the circle and Slytherins on the right and they looked as fi they were having an odd sort of face off.

"Ah, Ms Granger and Ms Weasley" Said the elderly woman. "So glad you could finally join us."

All eyes seemed to turn to them. "U-uh sorry ma'am. We got lost," She said in a trembly voice. She heard snickering from her Slytherin cohorts.

"Well, as you should know the first rule of any respectable prince or princess is to never be late. Now, hurry along and come join the rest of your house. And do not let this be an incident to be repeated."

Hermione's head was down in shame as she quickly made her way to join the rest of her house, trying her hardest to ignore the disappointed looks her housemates gave her.

"The first school ball will be held in three weeks time and you will all be required to bring a partner. To build school spirit I would like you all to partner up with a student of another house."

A ball in just three weeks time? There was no way she would be able to learn to dance that fast, she could barely keep herself from stumbling as she walked along the corridors, and those were flat surfaces!

There was a minute of tensions as the two sides sized each other up, then, seeing no progress Professor McGonagall took the initiative and sorted them into pairs.

"Pansy and Neville, Ginny and Zabini, Hermione and Draco." Her head snapped towards the blonde prince the professor had pointed out and to her uttermost discontent, she suddenly realized that it was the same blonde who had passed her on her way to Hogwarts; the one who had called her a peasant.

He seemed to recognize her too for his face contorted into a kind of wicked smirk. "If it isn't the peasant's daughter" Said Draco haughtily, " It seems that you're lost after all, classes are only to be taken by those of pureblooded heritage."

She felt a strong urge to slap him across the face.

"Yes it seems you're right, if I had known that I would be paired with an insufferable git such as yourself I would never have come." She retorted.

"Hmph, well it's a shame you had to grace us with your presence then."

"Enough!" Shouted the shrill voice of Professor McGonagall, "You will treat your fellow school members with the respect they deserve, 10 points from both your houses. " Her eyes hovered over the both of them with a look that inflicted trepidation.

"Begin," Said Professor McGonagall to the rest of the class and a classical composition echoed throughout the room.

All around her students began to awkwardly come together and position themselves into the starting position, beginning the first set on Professor McGonagall's signal.

She looked over to Ginny who was already dancing merrily along with Zabini. Their movements were jarred and clumsy but the two of them seemed to get along well enough- at least _they_ were talking.

The blonde prince made no effort to advance towards her and she had too much pride to be the first one to make a move; so instead they just stood there in the middle of the classroom locked in a battle of wills as their fellow classmates danced around them.

* * *

 ** _Draco POV_**

The girl in front of him was an enigma. Never in his life had someone his age actually dared to stand up to him. He was a Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and the first in line to the British throne. It was practically ludicrous to breathe the same air as he did- but the girl had defied him, the girl had called him an . . . insufferable git?

By this stage they were still in a heated death stare and he felt as if her chocolate brown eyes had the ability to see right into his soul and elect the thoughts running through his mind.

He seemed to notice, in that exact moment, that she was indeed very beautiful- far prettier than any of the French women his father had attempted to betroth him to- and he had a feeling she would be much less dim-witted.

After prolonged intense eye contact, it was he who eventually looked away. And with a huff of indignation, and a warning from McGonagall, he made his way somewhat reluctantly towards her and wrapped his arms around her slender waist.

He was a foot taller than she was which was lucky, as he didn't think he could stand the intensity of her eyes again.

As a child his father had forced him to take a great many dance lessons and by now he was practically an expert. This was lucky, as it was so unmistakably evident that the brown-eyed beauty before him must have never danced in her life. It had barely been five minutes and his big toe had been trodden on so many times he was certain it would be swollen, bruised and flattened beyond recognition.

She at least had the decency to say sorry the first six times, but she soon focused so completely on keeping in step it seemed as though the world was lost upon her. In step or not, it didn't help Draco's big toe in any way.

The longer they dance the more plans seemed to form in his head of ways to humiliate the girl who had dared defy him. And almost immediately, an idea struck him.

If he could lure her into the middle of the classroom where everyone would see her, he could trip her right over and she would not only be the laughing stock of their ballroom dancing class, but be known as the clutz of Hogwarts. It was genius- and half true from what he had experienced. He would be saving big toes all over Hogwarts.

They danced on and he soon maneuvered them to the center of the classroom; step to the left, step to the right, and on the second spin he swiped his foot smoothly under hers, knocking her completely off balance- not that she had balance in the first place- and she fell unceremoniously to the ground.

It was unfortunate for him however, that she had been gripping onto his shoulder so tightly that she managed to drag him down along with her.

He landed right on top of her, her face mere inches below his own. For a moment, they just stared into each other's eyes. She smelt of cranberries and vanilla, sweet and intoxicating. Her breathing was slow and she seemed just as stunned as he was. He had an urge to kiss her in that exact moment.

" Ahem," It was the voice of Professor McGonagall.

It snapped him out of his daze and he hurriedly stood up, not bothering to help her up.

The whole class had turned to stare at their little display and he could hear the whispering; it was no secret what kind of rumors would surely circulate after _that._

The class formed back into a large circle around Professor McGonagall as she gave a short speech about the origins of the Waltz they had just been taught and reminded them to practice for the upcoming ball.

Then, class was dismissed.

He hung back with his Slytherin counterparts as the rest of the students rushed towards their next class. He learnt that the pretty brunette he had been dancing with went by the name of Hermione. A name he couldn't quiet place an origin to.

Right before walking out she made her way nervously towards his group of Slytherins to speak to him, "I'm really sorry for tripping you up." She had said sincerely. "I can be such a clutz sometimes and I can't dance to save my life."

He chuckled at that, who would've thunk' there'd ever be a princess who was not able to dance? But fully aware and now slightly guilty of the fact that it had been he who tripped her in the first place, he decided to keep his mouth shut in case he said something to give himself away.

"Oh, and I'm really sorry for stepping on your toes so much." She continued, taking his silence as a cue to sink further into guilt.

"Uh no it's okay." He replied awkwardly, not quite used to someone sincerely apologizing for something.

But she seemed satisfied with that and walked back to her red headed friend, the Weasel.

* * *

 ** _Hermione's POV_**

"Wow you sure are smooth Hermione," Said Ginny as they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

She looked at the girl with an expression of confusion, unsure of what the other was talking about.

"The way you whipped up Draco Malfoy, nicely done."

She blushed a deep shade of red at that comment. "I don't know what you're talking about. And if you must know, I still think he's an obnoxious, pretentious, git."

Ginny only smiled at that, "Whatever you say."

The Great Hall was wild with chitchat and the two girls made their way to the large Gryffindor table where Ginny was expecting to find the rest of the Weasley clan.

"Ginny!" Shouted a voice from across the hall, "Over here!" They looked over to where the voice had called and saw a trio of red headed princes sitting on the far side of the Gryffindor table. They quickly made their way over.

"How was your first day sis?" Asked one of the twins, "And who's your stunning friend over here?"

Hermione felt her cheeks blush with embarrassment, "I'm Hermione Granger, it's a pleasure to meet you," She said a little to quickly.

"The pleasure is all mine, I'm Fred, this is George and this is Ron," He said as he pointed to each of the brothers. "Thanks for looking after Ginny, she can be quiet a handful, right Ginny."

Fred ruffled Ginny's hair in a big brother-ish way. "Stop it! I'm seventeen for heavens sake, stop treating me like I'm twelve." Groaned Ginny.

The whole family seemed to erupt in laughter. "No Ron's seventeen, you will always be our little baby sister," Retorted George.

Ginny aimed a punch at his elbow "No I will not, and you will treat me as if I'm a womanly woman."

" A womanly woman?! Tell that to Mom, you know she would kill us if anything happened to you. You're her precious and beloved daughter" Said Fred over the laughter of his brothers.

Hermione listened into the entertaining quarrels of the siblings while she enjoyed the delicious roast pork in front of her.

"So what year are you all in?" She asked Fred.

"Ah, me and George are both finishing our third and final year at Hogwarts. And, Ron over there is in the same year as you and Ginny. " He said as he pointed to Ron who was busily devouring a chicken leg.

"Hey Fred, looks like Angelina and Katie have just arrived, I'd imagine it would be quiet chivalrous if we went over there to walk them in." He raised his eyebrows suggestively as he said this.

Both Ginny and Hermione were left giggling as the two twins walked flamboyantly up towards the group of girls and gave great low bows.

Ron finished up with his chicken and moved in to fill the gap in the table across from Ginny and Hermione. "Hey Ginny, have you seen my soccer ball anywhere? I remember packing it in my bag but when I went to go and find it wasn't there" Said Ron sheepishly.

"Yeah" Replied Ginny, "It somehow ended up in my room, we must've accidently mixed things up when we rushed out the door this morning. You can come get it right after dinner if you want."

"Oh okay, thanks Ginny"

There was a peaceful silence as they ate their desserts and Hermione was fascinated with the range of dishes placed before her. There were about a million flavors of ice cream from the ordinary vanilla, chocolate and strawberry to some exotic creations such as Higgly Jam, Sea Shell Supreme and Cinnamon Bell. Ginny had recommended the Dragons Breathe as it was said to give you extreme vanilla brain freeze.

She looked over to the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy was surrounded by a flock of gushing princesses. Zabini was talking animatedly about something to do with a rocket- from what she could see- and the girls seemed to hang on his every word. A pang of jealousy went through her as she observed the beautiful Pansy Parkinson run her slim fingers through Draco's voguish blonde hair while starring dreamily into his eyes.

"He sure is full of himself isn't he?" Said Ginny as she looked over to the Slytherin table.

"Yeah," Replied Hermione a little breathlessly, embarrassed that she had just been caught staring.

"I mean look at how they drool over him as if he's some kind of god. Sure, his beautiful chocolate skin may be the thing of heavens, but that doesn't mean that we should all blindly throw ourselves at him. That only boosts his already oversized ego." Said Ginny with a look that made if obvious that she would like nothing better than to walk on over and worship _him_ as the others did.

Hermione was stunned by her friend's outburst and although she kept it quietly to herself, she secretly thought that the two would make a smashing couple.

Dinner soon ended and the two had quickly made their way back up to their dorms. They had been so engulfed in conversation that they had once again missed the peculiar set of green eyes that had been fixated on them ever since they set foot into Hogwarts.

"What are you looking at Harry?" Asked Luna.

"Nothing really, just observing my next snack."


	4. Chapter 3

The weekend had finally come around and Hermione Granger found herself at the magnificent Weasley estate for the Royal Irish Tea Ceremony. Ginny had invited her over the previous afternoon and since she needed a break from the growing pile of schoolwork, she gladly accepted.

Hermione had never attended a tea ceremony before, in fact, she hadn't had the opportunity to attend much of anything as a child. This was mainly due to the fact that Romania had severed many of its ties with the rest of Europe after the Battle of Heizenburgh in which her great grandfather had allied with the Ottoman Empire.

Ginny had been completely gob smacked when she mentioned it earlier and insisted that they go on a shopping spree and pick out something classy for her "depute as Europe's newest socialite."

They visited about a dozen or so magnificent Scottish boutiques where Ginny had convinced her to take home a sexy floor length crimson dress with a slim waistline and elegant silky drapes. It showed a little more skin than she was used to but she figured it wouldn't hurt to be just a little outrageous for one night.

As the hostess of the event Ginny had opted for a traditional lime green ball gown that had an intricate silver bead design down the left side in the shape of a five-leafed clover.

By the time the two girls had gotten back it was suppertime and Molly Weasley was busy at work in the kitchen.

"Good evening Ginny, Hermione," Welcomed the motherly voice. "Why don't you two pop your bags up in Ginny's room and then come help me in the kitchen. Bill and Fleur will be joining us and Percy and Charlie said they'd be dropping in for dessert."

"Yes Mom," Said Ginny as she led the way up the spiralled staircase to her bedroom.

"Your mom cooks?" Remarked Hermione with a tone of quizzicality. She had never known of a royal family who were required to cook their own meals, it seemed absurd, preposterous! In her own home, her mother left all the household chores to the maids and valets, never daring to lift even one of her perfect manicured fingers.

"She likes running everything herself, doesn't see why someone else should do all the work round here while she just sits on her butt all day." Replied Ginny proudly.

"Oh, I guess that makes sense." Said Hermione who was now feeling incredibly guilty. Other than the occasional batch of buttermilk cupcakes, she had never cooked a meal in her life and although she kept her room tidy, it was never she who went around dusting off all the tapestries her father kept around or making sure there wasn't dirt on any of the tiles.

Ginny's bedroom was much smaller than her own and it looked as though the girl had inherited half a village and attempted to cram it all into the small space. There was a collection of soccer player figurines arranged on a wooden windowsill, an assortment of coloured glass bottles on an old shelf, a dozen rugs layered haphazardly across the floor, a pile of sporting magazine scattered on a desk, a large statue of a leprechaun in one corner and a queen-sized bed in the other.

"Sorry it's a little messy," Said Ginny as she cleared a bunch of music books from her bed and placed them carefully into the draw of her bedside table. "Just place your things down over there." She said and pointed to the only empty bit of space in the room beside a rack of soccer balls.

Hermione smiled at the girl as she dumped her things. "My room is usually twice as messy as this," She lied.

In actual fact Hermione was borderline on having a cleaning disorder. Even as a child she had organized all her teddy bears alphabetically in order of shape, height and fluffiness. She colour coded her wardrobe at age 10, sectioned off the castle into productively efficient sectors at age 13 and sold off a drove of Romania's finest stallions at the age of 14 after concluding that the brown spots were just too randomized to be considered classifiable.

"What instrument do you play?" Asked Hermione, skilfully changing the topic

"The flute" Replied Ginny happily, "But I haven't practiced in a while, my elder brother Bill used to teach me but he's in Egypt working for Gringotts Bank."

"It's the same with me, my mom used to teach me piano when I was younger but now she's always away on business trips, I hardly ever see her."

Ginny eyed her sympathetically, " I wouldn't know what to do without my mom, she basically does everything for us. Even sorts through Fred and Georges underwear!"

They both cracked into a fit of laughter before settling into a comfortable silence as Hermione began to unpack her things and Ginny submerged herself in the latest sporting magazine.

"Ginerva Weasley!" Shouted an angry voice from the kitchen, "Get down here right this instant and help me cut the carrots."

The look on Ginny's face was that of quaking horror, "I completely forgot!" She exclaimed as she threw her magazine down beside her and raced out the door and down to the kitchen.

Hermione was left in a daze at Ginny's abrupt departure and after carefully slipping the crimson dress into her bag, she descended the spiral staircase to the kitchen.

The kitchen was in an even worse condition than Ginny's bedroom. The whole countertop was covered in a thick coat of flower and pots and pans boiled out of control as a frantic Molly Weasley raced to salvage their contents.

Ginny was hurriedly skinning carrots while overseeing a pot of soup boil and Ron was attempting to clean up the garden vegetables by wildly shaking the dirt off of them as opposed to simply cutting the ends off. But that was nothing compared to what the culprit mess makers Fred and George had conjured up, the two had dumped handfuls of flower into Ron's hair behind his back, turned up the heat on different pots every time Molly looked away, and added mysterious powders to the different mixtures that had been left out to cool.

"Hermione, thank god you're here!" Shouted Molly over the whistling pots, "Would you mind helping Fred and George out with the shepherd's pie?"

"Uhm sure," She replied nervously, noticing the huge grins that formed on the twin's faces as they dropped some mysterious items into what she guessed was the shepherds pie.

* * *

Dinner with the Weasley turned out to be quiet an affair compared to the silent meals she was accustomed to at home.

The table was bustling with chatter as Bill told Fred and George a story of how he'd convinced an American couple that he was an Egyptian prince. Ginny, Fleur and Molly were in a heated debate about the flower festival held in spring and which florist had the most beautiful orchids and Arthur Weasley questioned her about the customs and traditions in Romania.

He had told her that their son Charlie Weasley was currently studying dragons in Romania and was apparently having a ball.

Charlie Weasley, yes she definitely recognized that name, he was the youngest person in centuries to be accepted into the Dragonology program, pretty much a celebrity back in Romania and her father had often invited him over for dinner where they furiously discussed Romania's future with Dragons and possible funding schemes to kick-start cures for serious burns and Dragon pox.

"I used to have a pet Romanian Longhorn," she told Arthur "It was actually rather cute until it destroyed one of the towers and came close to eating the poor fisherman."

"Can Fred and I have a dragon?" Asked George faking puppy eyes.

"Absolutely not!" Replied the stern voice of Molly Weasley almost instantaneously.

"But how come you let Charlie get one?" Piped in Fred.

"Yeah how's that fair? It's not like we're irresponsible"

"Look at how Ron treated Scabbers."

"Scabbers died on his own" Retorted Ron.

"He was fine when George and I had him, twelve years I tell ya"

Rons face went bright pink.

"Dad can we please get a dragon?" Pleaded Ginny, "I'm sure Charlie could send us a baby one from Romania and it'll be just like having a puppy."

Mr Weasley looked into the pleading eyes of his four youngest and could simply not resist. " Well okay then, I'm sure we can train it to protect the crops from all those pesky crows."

Fred and George high-fived each other.

"Arthur Weasley!" Screamed a fuming Molly.

It was in that instant that a loud knock was heard from the front door, and Molly Weasley took a moment to compose herself before walking enthusiastically out the dining room. "That'll be Percy and Charlie." She announced in an excited voice.

A moment later she returned and two red headed men trailed behind her. Hermione's eyes immediately drifted to the burly figure that was Charlie Weasley. He seemed to recognise her too and his sparkling blue eyes lit up as he greeted her.

"Good evening Princess," Said Charlie, his voice deep and husky. "I suppose you're here for the Tea Ceremony."

It took her a moment to catch her breath. "Yep, Ginny invited me," She replied in an unusually cheerful tone.

"I take it you two know each other then?" Said Arthur Weasley as he scooped a massive chunk of Puffleberry ice cream into a bowl for Percy.

"Charlie was actually the caretaker of Dragon." Replied Hermione handing her bowl to Arthur.

"Feisty thing, that one!" Said Charlie as he plopped himself down into the seat beside her.

He smelt of the Romanian forest: wet moss, pine and a musky earthy smell she hadn't realized she missed. Everything about him reminded her of home; the black Romanian mountains, the old stone war sculptures she had for so long despised and even the relentless scolding she received from Dobby. She was desperately homesick and having the teenage heartthrob that was Charlie Weasley in close proximity was definitely not helping.

"How is it?" Asked Charlie as she scooped a spoonful of Puffleberry ice-cream into her mouth.

The results were almost instant and she felt as if her entire mouth was about to explode. Her tastebuds were completely overwhelmed and it felt as if someone had shoved a frying pan down her throat. She coughed and wheezed, scoffing down as much water as she could while the rest of the table erupted in wild hysterics.

"What was that," She asked in a hoarse voice, the burning sensation still lingering in her throat.

"The Puffleberry" Said Fred and George with wide grins. "It's supposed to make you feel as if a puffer fish exploded in your mouth. Pretty cool eh? We made it just for you."

She wanted to murder them.

* * *

Charlie had taken her on a grand voyage through Ireland, visiting all the famous icons and even dropping by to one of Irelands most renowned cattle ranches where she had milked her first ever cow.

They were now strolling through the city of Dublin, hand-in-hand, as Charlie playfully teased her about her "wild bushy locks" and she counteracted his teasing with threats to steal away his beloved dragons. To any onlookers the pair looked like an odd couple of sorts with Charlie being almost a foot taller than her and dressed in his traditional – completely ridiculous- high socks and plaited manskirt Molly had forced him into. As far as she was concerned, all he needed was a grandfather cap and bagpipes and he'd be fit to join the royal Irish marching band!

Charlie launched into another speech about the city's origins and even went as far as mentioning all the significant wars and many of the prominent figures of each era. A love and fascination of history was something they both seemed to share and she found that she could listen to him go on for days about the great kings and queens of Ireland and theorize about zombie apocalypses.

"You see that sculpture of St. Patrick," He motioned over to a large ancient bronze sculpture that looked as if it would crumble in on itself at any moment. "It was carved by one of my ancestors in the fourteenth century. Alroy Weasley, the most respected Knight of his time. It's supposed to be cursed." Declared Charlie boastfully, proud of his ancestors ventures in the dark arts.

"Cursed? Like some kind of Voodoo thing?"

He smirked back at her, "Something like that, who knows what kind of crazy shit happened back then. Anyways, people have been trying for centuries to remove all them all" He gestured to the line of statues that were equally as frail. "But no matter how hard they try they just won't budge." He made a point of it by leaning carelessly against dear old St. Patrick and to her surprise the statue stayed put.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing to a golden plaque above the statue, too high for her to read. It wasn't that she was some midget, because she wasn't, but for some reason everything in Ireland seemed to be made for giants, or giant sized people.

Charlie read the scripture aloud.

 _"In memory of St. Patrick who's soul was stolen by the Hecate Witch."_

"Hecate witch?" She was immediately intrigued. Living in Romania she had grown up with stories of witches and wizards, they were the things of fairy tales and she had always been warned not to go anywhere near them. Witches were among the most foulest and deadliest of creatures, they cooked children for breakfast and tortured puppies! They were as ugly as toads and could never be trusted.

"It's an old myth," Said Charlie playfully "They say that she was the brightest witch of her age, cured the sick, aided the poor, more of a saint than a witch to be honest. She was St. Patrick's assistant but she supposedly went crazy in the end and murdered him before committing suicide herself."

She analyzed this new information in her head, most of it fitted in with what she had been brought up to believe about witches but there were a few parts that didn't quiet fit. She rationalized that the Hecate Witch might have done those saintly deeds in order to gain the trust of St. Patrick, but then it didn't make sense for her to kill herself after murdering him. Could she possibly have been overcome with guilt? Or maybe she fell in love with him? No that couldn't be it, witches were incapable of love.

"What are you thinking about?" Asked Charlie, interrupting her train of thought, "You've got that look on your face that says your planning to conquer the world."

She snickered at that. " It doesn't make sense, why would she kill herself after killing him? And why bother doing all that good stuff if she was just going to kill him anyways? I doubt he was under constant surveillance, even if all those people loved him, she probably could've just used one of her spells to kill him and save herself a lot of trouble. And what's with the stealing away of his soul business?"

He thought for a bit before replying, "Beats me, crazy people aren't really known for making rational decisions."

"Yeah, but that still doesn't explain why she did all the good stuff." Reasoned Hermione.

Charlie just shrugged and she took that as a cue to drop the topic, making a mental note to do more research when he got back to Hogwarts.

When they eventually returned to the Weasley estate they were met with the familiar chaos that was becoming of the Weasley family. Molly Weasley stood at the center of the large ballroom barking orders at her five sons who were arranging a set of tables.

"Charlie, hurry over here and help your brothers out will you!" Barked Molly as she inspected the lining of the table Fred and George had just dumped down.

"Yes Mom," He replied and before Hermione could process what was happening his lips were on her skin as he leaned down and kissed her cheek goodbye before jogging over to join the rest of his family.

She found herself standing there longer than appropriate stunned and blushing from the unexpected contact.

There was no question that Charlie Weasley was good looking- the fangirls back in Romania were a testament to that - and although she would never dare tell a soul, she herself had had a tinsie crush on him too. Okay maybe it was a bit more than tinsie, but it wasn't as if she had posters of him or anything, although she didn't see the harm in that.

So after creepily gazing at him a bit longer she made her way up to Ginny's room where the two got ready for the Tea Ceremony.


	5. Chapter 4

**Between school and work this chapter is ridiculously late and I do apologise! But nevertheless here it is, I hope you all enjoy :) Ps. Not edited yet, but will be as soon as I find the time. . . Sorry!**

 ***Not Edited***

* * *

 **Draco's POV**

He wanted nothing more than to be back in his Hogwarts dorm, huddled next to the warmness of the fireplace sipping a cup of warm elf-made Coco while completing his ten-page essay on Imperialism.

But instead, he'd been dragged halfway across the country to the cold, miserable wasteland that was Dublin city. He hated everything about Ireland, the food, the music, the traditions and above all, the people. Oh how he loathed his every encounter with the Weasley family, so much so that he almost felt pity to the poor Irish folk who had to put up with them as Monarchy.

"Meet Cecile" Announced the stern voice of his father as a pretty blonde stepped forward and dropped into a curtsey.

"Nice to meet you," She said with a distinct French accent.

And it became frightfully obvious to Draco that she had been Marilyn Monroe in her past life for she wore six-inch heels and had the kind of ruby red lipstick that made any man want to kneel down and beg for her attention.

It was quite unfortunate then that he had an obsession with brunettes, well, at least with a certain brown eyed beauty who had managed to ensnared him in her outrageous tangles.

He imagined the look on his father's face if he'd been responsible for the birth of the first ever non-blonde Malfoy heir. He snickered. Then choked as he realized what he'd been thinking.

"Well are you just going to stand there or are you going to take my hand?" Asked Cecile impulsively, earning her a death glare.

This was just grand, he thought to himself. She was no different from all the other women he ever been presented with: Pretty, French and no more amusing than _Hogwarts: A History._

Nevertheless, he took her hand, like the gentlemen he had been raised to be, and lead her out to the balcony where the rest o the guests had gathered. He was immediately greeted by the disheveled figure that could only be Arthur Weasley.

"Ah, Draco so good to see you." Said the Arthur, "And you too Lucius, you certainly haven't aged a bit since I last saw you."

"And I suppose you and your . . . family are doing well." Replied Lucius grimly.

It was then that Draco noticed the rest of the Weasley Clan. They looked like a bunch of circus performers with their black and green skirts and knee-high white socks. Ron, his lifelong enemy, even had one of those tacky green top hats and if he hadn't been so tall he would have surely been mistaken for a leprechaun. Draco couldn't _not_ crack up laughing.

"Draco" Said Ron in a dangerously low voice.

"Ron." He said with a snicker. "You look just like the daughter Molly always wanted."

He knew it was a low blow, but he didn't really care. Once upon a time, he and Ron had been the best of friends so naturally he knew all about the redhead's most secret insecurities. And being the compassionate Slytherin that he was, he mde it his job to exploit each and every one of them, every chance he got.

"The boys seem to be getting along as merrily as usual." Said Arthur to Lucius in a failed attempt to make conversation, for Lucius only nodded his head, and wandered off to mingle with the rest of the guests after the required formalities had been exchanged.

It wasn't anything to be taken personally really, but ever since the dawn of time itself the Weasleys' and the Malfoys' had detested one another. Many generations had tried patching things up between the two families but it seemed that pride was hereditary in both families and the end result was always war.

"Well if it isn't Lavender Brown," Said Cecile in a haughty voice.

Lavender Brown was one of the most insufferable people Draco had ever met. She was incredibly daft and uninteresting, had a brain the size of a pea, and seemed to do nothing but whine.

"Won won, what are you doing in the company of this tramp!" Her voice was high pitched and reminded him of the tiny rodents that scavenged around Hogwarts castle at untimely hours of the night.

Cecile gasped. "Excuse you, but the last I heard the only thing filthy around here is your affair with that Finnigan boy!"

Just great, he thought to himself, how lovely of it for him to be present for the beginnings of World War IV.

"Hmph, and what about you and Lord Black?"

"We're just fine thank you very much," Snipped Cecile.

Draco wanted to strangle himself. What did he do to deserve this? Out of all the women in Europe and he'd been paired up with the _one_ his cousin Sirius had a _thing_ for! Wait 'til his father heard about this!

"If you asked me I would've thought Lord Black had a little more class. Besides doesn't he like his women pretty?"

"Oh, and I bet it was real classy of you to be making out with that peasant."

Lavender looked ready to jump into a boxing ring. "At least he's not my sugar daddy!"

"Well obviously not seeing as he can barely provide for himself!"

"Uhm look Lavender," Said Ron meekly.

"Just give it a couple of weeks and Sirius will be through with you," Said Lavender, effectively cutting Ron off.

"Like he was with you?" Mocked Cecile.

Now he had heard it all! It would hardly be a surprise if Ron came out and told him that he too had slept with his cousin Sirius!

Speaking of Ron, the ginger had an almost comical expression on his face and if Draco wasn't severely nauseated himself, he would have felt sorry for the guy. It wasn't exactly delightful to find out that your beloved girlfriend slept with a lowly peasant, but with Sirius Black as well. Tough gig.

"Lavender, why don't we head over to chat with the rest of the guests? I think I see Parvati and Praviti" Said Ron in an attempt to put some distance between the two girls.

But Lavender didn't budge.

"Hmph, when Sirius is through with you I'll make sure that everyone in Europe knows about what a whore you are." Said Lavender in a malicious tone that sounded more like a cackle, "Oh and Ron, it's Padma and Parvati."

And with that she stormed off into the crowd, Ron trailing closely behind her.

* * *

 **Hermione POV**

Hermione watched avidly as Ginny rushed around greeting the Lords and Ladies, Counts, Dukes and Duchesses from every corner of Europe. Not even stopping for a drink as she glided through the crowd of people.

It soon became exhausting just watching her and Hermione felt in desperate need of entertainment, or a distraction at the very least.

Naturally, she made for the wine table.

She had never tasted wine before, or any alcoholic beverage for that matter as she had been warned from a young age about how the stuff poisons the mind and rots the teeth.

But since everyone else seemed to be drinking the stuff she threw her wits to the wind and continued onwards towards the wine.

Looking around - as the guilty almost always do- she shyly picked up a glass from the table and took a dainty sip. She felt a strong surge of proud rebellion run through her, but that feeling was short lived as a nasty bitterness took over her senses. She gagged, but forced herself to swallow for fear of embarrassment.

This was the drink of the gods? This was the thing Dionysus couldn't bear live without?

She was beyond disappointed. But since the glass was still half full, and not wanting to seem rude, she braced herself for another sip of the god forbidden drink.

The second sip was surprisingly less bitter and she found that she had almost come to enjoy it, after feeling a subtle tingle in her stomach. So she took another, and another, and soon she was finished her first glass but was still thirsty.

It wasn't until her fourth glass that she began to feel tipsy; but her mood was noticeably better than it had been earlier, so she saw it as a relatively fair trade off. With the hopes of increasing her jolly good mood, she reached out to grab another glass.

"Woah, hold on there tiger!" Said a familiar voice and she whimpered as she felt the cool glass pulled up and away from her.

" Charlie. Give it back you prat!" _That was most definitely the wine talking_ , she thought wistfully to herself, as she reached out for the glass whisked just out of her reach.

"How much did you drink?" He asked curiously, hoping the empty glasses beside her weren't her own. "You know it goes against etiquette for you to be drinking, being a woman and all."

She immediately felt the anger boil inside of her, and this time it wasn't the wine. She had always despised the rules and customs of social etiquette, particularly the fact that they treated women as alternative mediums of exchange or nothing more than a trophy who was to behave as if she were a doll.

So, to find out that Charlie held such despicable opinions was a complete and utter shock. "What, you think I can't hold my liquor?" She challenged, wanting nothing more than to slap him. "I don't see why it's socially unacceptable for us ladies to drink but you lot can get drunk off your sexist Asses!"

Charlie was taken aback by her sudden outburst and concluded that she had drank a lot more than he had previously estimated- he had afterall given her the benefit of the doubt that those four empty wine glasses were not indeed hers. "Okay Hermione I think you've had too much to drink. Wait here and I'll go get you some water to help clear it out of your system."

She only let out a loud "Hmph" as Charlie disappeared into the crowd. Well so much for that, she thought glumly to herself. Charlie probably thought she was a raging psychotic feminist –definitely not girlfriend material- and no matter how much she wanted to blame the wine, she knew it was completely her fault; why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut?

Ten minutes past with no sign of Charlie.

She waited a bit more before taking it upon herself to go and hunt him down. In her semi drunken state, the room seemed to wobble uncontrollably around her and she could only count her blessing that Ginny hadn't decided to become DJ of the night and blast her raunchy pop music.

She spotted a few familiar faces as she made her way through the crowd, one of them being Luna Lovegood who she sat next to in Imperialism. Despite their differences they got along surprisingly well and she found Luna's babbling about ancient spirits, myths and legends to be quiet entertaining, even if she didn't believe a word of it.

She made it to the refreshments table without too much trouble, but there was no sign of Charlie nearby. _Maybe he went back to look for me?_ She thought to herself as she washed the alcohol out of her system with a cool cup of water.

"Oh Charlie you're so brave!" She heard a female voice say behind her and she immediately turned around to the direction of the voice.

The sight that met her was a rather unpleasant one.

Charlie Weasley was flirting shamelessly with two girls that looked like they had just come from a pornstar convention. They wore black dresses that hugged their every curves and displayed more than just a little bit of cleavage. The taller girl was running her nails up and down his chest while the other one whispered dirty things into his ear. What surprised her most was that he didn't push them away, and instead seemed as if he was enjoying it quiet a bit and she saw with shock that his hands were slowly making their way down the small of the girl's back.

She stood there frozen and staring at them and when Charlie eventually gestured for the two to follow him into an adjacent room where they could have more "privacy" she all but ran out of the balcony, wanting to get as far away form the scene as possible.

She found herself in a spot in the hedges where a small stone bench and birdbath lie under an arch of entwining vines.

Charlie had shown it to her earlier on his tour of the gardens, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner and cry after the horrid scene she had just witnessed.

She felt stupid and embarrassed.

It almost seemed like a blessing when she spotted her brown book bag next to the birdbath and she remembered that she had forgotten it earlier.

She promptly popper herself onto the stone bench and pulled out a large book from her bag.

 _Little Women_ by Louisa Alcott was among her most favorite novels. She absolutely adored the protagonist Jo and felt inspired to live and think like Jo did and chase after her wildest dreams without giving a damn about what the rest of society ought to think about her. _If only I could!_ She thought whimsically.

She found a great comfort in her books and often felt as if the entire universe dissolved around her and that she was transported to an entirely different world. An alternate reality where she wasn't a princess and where she could pursue her dreams of becoming a historian and was free to travel the world recording truths and searching for stories.

By this stage, she was so lost in thought that she was completely oblivious to the arrival of a certain pompous brat.

"Good Evening Milady," His voice was husky and she recognized the British drawl, dragging her immediately back into reality.

"Hi." She replied, still startled by hi sudden arrival. "Uhm, what do you want?"

He seemed to disregard her question entirely. "So, what's a young lass like yourself doing so far away from the party?"

"I-I was uhm- reading." She said, nervously, not wanting anyone to catch onto the real reason she came out here. "I'm not really a fan of these sorts of things, the gatherings that is."

"That makes two of us." He replied with a smirk "What are you reading? If you don't mind my asking."

"Little Women"

"Oh," He replied with a startled interest. "I think she should have ended up with Laurence. He was much better than the sixty year old hag she chose."

She couldn't help but smirk at that. Who would have thought that someone like Draco read books? But perhaps she shouldn't judge by appearances he was after all intelligent enough to be in her Ravenclaw-exclusive Imperialism class.

"Well I would have to disagree," Said Hermione. "She only ever saw Laurie as a brother and if she even said that she would have only chosen him out of pity which would go against everything her character stood for."

"Nonsense," He replied with feint outrage. "Laurie could have given her ten times what the old hag did and that's including great sex."

It was almost laughable that just twice in a night she had managed to encounter men who held those prejudiced beliefs about women.

She wrinkled her nose at that. " I don't think you understand but Jo didn't want someone to provide for her anymore than she would have married someone for great sex."

"Well, she definitely didn't get anything _on_ with Mr Bhaer, you are aware that they didn't have Viagra back the day."

"Actually they had two children in the end." She retorted and he made choking noises.

"That's sickening, he was as old as her father!"

"True love has no bounds!"

"It does when your beloved can barely muster up the stamina to get out of bed in the morning, let alone have sex."

"Love isn't all about sex! And plus they wouldn't need to get out of bed for that."

They went on like that for a while until Draco eventually admitted defeat after Hermione declared that if she were in Jo's position she too would have chosen Mr Bhaer _and_ have two children with him.

For god knows what reason, she found that she quite enjoyed the argument with Draco. It was refreshing to discuss something other than social class or aristocratic gossip for once in her life and she would have been content with spending the entire night discussing books or anything else that happened to rustle her curiosity.

He took a seat beside her and grabbed the small book out of her hands before plopping it back into her bag.

She opened her mouth in protest but he cut her off with a hushing sound.

" Enough of this for now." He declared with all the power and authority of a king. "I have an idea."

She only raised an eyebrow at this.

"I have come to the conclusion that you haven't taught yourself how to dance yet."

She blushed at that, _she hadn't taught herself how to dance in the seventeen years that she had been alive! Of course she wouldn't have learnt in a mere week!_

"So I'm going to teach you."

* * *

 **I would love some feedback on this :))**


	6. Chapter 5

**Now I guess this would be a pretty good time to say that I am SO SORRY for the late updating times that have manifested into an extended hiatus. I'm currently super busy with school work and life in general so I'm not sure when the next chapter is up but thank you to everyone for all the love and support and I hope you all enjoy...**

* * *

 **Hermione's POV**

"No. Absoltely not."

Draco only smirks at this. "Come on, how bad can it be? You may as well learn here, in this godforsaken garden, away from prying eyes then make a fool of the both of us in front of the entire class . . . _again_ "

Okay so he made a good point; this was bigger than just her. But that didn't mean that _he_ had to be the one to teach her, nor did it mean that she was in any way teachable. Dobby had said so himself that her inability to dance was as much a genetic disorder as it was a lack of skill and practice.

She wracked her mind for a strong rebuttal, a compromise, but came up with nothing.

Because logically speaking- whether she liked it or not- as princess of Romania there was no way in hell that her future would be complete without at least a dozen ballroom dances to attend every season. No matter how strong her desire to rush to the nearest bathroom stall (her refuge in these situations), it just wouldn't suffice as a long term solution.

So, with an unceremonious huff of defeat, she gave in to Draco's ridiculous request. Not for a second believing that he would be of any help.

She stood up and he lead them to a stone paved plain in the middle of the garden. "Go on Granger, show me what you've got"

She nodded, moving a few paces back so that they were now in a starting waltz position.

She waited for him to count in, signaling with her eyes that she was ready.

"Three, Two, 0ne…."

 **Draco's POV**

She moves in and those chocolate brown eyes come alive with life. _With fire._ He wraps his arms around her waist and their bodies become entwined as he leads her through the steps of the waltz.

Through the twists, the turns, the twirls. And with each step she improves, her movements becoming more graceful, her feet no longer blunder.

His eyes are on hers; but hers concentrate only on the movement of her feet. Determination made obvious by the permanent furrow of her brows. By the tiny gasp every time her feet come too close to trotting on top of his.

"Granger. Look up, nobody dances while looking at their feet."

She bites her bottom lip before responding, "I can't, I'm barely keeping from stepping on you now!"

He slows their pace in attempt to ease her out of looking down at her feet. "It's a beautiful night out tonight and the stars are shining as bright as ever. The goddess Asteria is looking particularly radiant."

Still she refuses to look up, ignoring him and instead choosing to concentrate harder on her footwork with an intensity rivaling that of an artist painting his masterpiece.

"Granger, you can do it. Look at me." His voice comes out as a near plead and in that moment he wants nothing more than to loose himself in those big beautiful brown eyes of hers.

But she doesn't.

And so she still has lots to learn.

* * *

 **Hermione's POV**

"Oh Hermione, last night was the best night of my life" said Ginny as she recounted the tale of the previous night.

"We danced all night and he told me how beautiful he thought I was and even though a dozen other girls begged him to dance with them he refused them all just like that and said that he only had eyes for me! Oh Hermione, is it possible to be this happy?"

Whatever Blaise Zabini had done the night before had reduced Ginny to a blubbering ball of mush and Hermione could only cringe at the irony of the whole situation.

Just a few short weeks ago the girl had been thoroughly opposed to the very idea of being anywhere near the prince and now she was entertaining the idea of- gasp! - Matrimony. _Love makes fools of us all_ she quoted Shakespeare in her head.

"He wants me to accompany him to Hogsmeade next weekend for a double date, I can hardly wait, can you believe it Hermione? Me going on a date with Blaise Zabini to Hogsmeade!"

There were only a few things that Hermione could imagine going worse then a potions lesson with Snape, one of them was going on a double date with Ginny, and another was going on a double date with Ginny on Valentines day… with Draco Malfoy.

Now it wasn't because she disliked him, quiet the opposite really, because after their unscripted dance lesson at the Weasley's she had had to sit herself down and revaluate her initial impression of him.

Okay so she didn't mind his company. And she was rather surprised to find that he too was a fan of literature. But that didn't mean that she would want to be friends with him, or be with him in that _way_. She back peddled on her train of thought.

 _What was she thinking?_ This was Draco Malfoy she was talking about. The first in line to the British throne, practically the most influential teenager alive. It was ludicrous to think that he would be interested in the likes of her; the princess of little old Romania. No, he was bread to rule an empire, the word power pretty much encapsulated the significance of the Malfoy name. And so it would only make sense for him to marry a girl from an equally powerful nation- or at least one that came close to it. The princess of France, Germany or Italy perhaps. But definitely not her.

Besides, guys like Draco came with a flock of bloodthirsty fan girls and she knew for a fact that they would have her head strung up on a pike.

That settled it then she guessed. They were two different people from two different worlds and no matter how much she did like him he was out of her league.

* * *

 **Draco's POV**

Blue skies, bright yellow sunshine and Chamomile tea. His life was complete.

He had spent the better part of the day skimming through his collection of notes on Ancient Greece, recounting the stories of the Persians, the Peloponnesian War, the fall of Sparta and the rise of Athens.

He studied the great men of history, from Alexandria the Great, Leonidas I King of Sparta, Euclid father of geometry, and of course Aristotle and Plato men who devoted themselves to the study of wisdom and thought.

In short, he was somewhat of a history nut.

A history nut who had been born a century too late and would never have the chance to any conquering himself. No matter how tempting it would be to invade Ireland, or Belgium on days he craved chocolate.

But on the bright side of things, he did have the afternoon with that Granger girl to look forward too.

The Granger girl; the left hemisphere of his cortex mentally slapped the right. Glancing up at the clock he found that it had been sixteen minutes and six seconds since the last time he had thought about her. That was a whole five minutes and thirty six seconds longer than his last attempt at getting her out of his head.

Progress was being made.

Draco had never felt this way about a girl before and in all honesty, he didn't know what to make of the jittery feeling that came over him whenever he thought about her or how nauseous he felt upon realizing that he would be seeing her again.

Besides Blaise and occasionally Pansy, Draco was not one to openly converse with other beings. He'd been taught from a young age that people could not be trusted and that ultimately it was human interaction which brought empires to their knees. It had been proven time and time again in history; with Antony and Cleopatra, or even Napoleon and Josephine.

And then there was the fact that he really didn't enjoy being around people that much anyhow; the majority of people he came into contact with were either intimidated by him, after his wealth and power, or just plain idiots.

All things considered there was really nothing to ensure him that Hermione was any different. In the grand scale of things he barely even knew her. Sure they had come across each other a few times and she was by far the most intelligent women he had ever met. . . But so what? Intelligence never inoculated anyone from straying down the path of evil, heck it didn't even guarantee that someone was a decent person.

So really, there was only one piece of tangible evidence in which he could use to support her case, and that came in the feeling he got whenever her magnificent brown eyes looked up at him.

"Earth to Draco"

Blaise was as irritating as ever.

"What?"

"Oh nothing," Said the other boy almost whimsically

Draco only glared.

Blaise went on " I was going to ask what you wrote for the extended response about Perseus's Seven Charges, but seeing as you're too busy being cranky I guess I just won't bother."

This sort of thing was normal coming from Blaise, who would make it a point of honour to do absolutely no studying after school hours and instead come crying to Draco the day before an important assignment or test was due. It had almost become a tradition for the two of them. And no matter how many times he scolded or warned his friends the words just didn't seem to sink in.

Nevertheless, he handed Blaise his fifteen-page thesis on Perseus's Seven Charges.

"Thanks mate, by the way who're you taking out to Hogsmead next weekend?"

Draco pondered this for a moment. "I'm sure my father will find a way to pair me up with another one of those ridiculous bimbos."

Blaise seemed to pause for a bit in consideration "I have a better idea."

Draco quirked his eyebrow

"If I were to find someone to go with you, would you go?"

" No"

"Please mate this is important."

"No. I'm not interested in having some chick on the side while I'm here at Hogwarts. I came here to escape all of that, remember?"

Blaise looked him straight in the eyes this time. "Draco this isn't about you. I told Ginny that I'd take her out on a date last weekend and she thought that it would be a great idea if we all went on a double date with her dorm mate so out of my own self interest I agreed and told her that I'd invite you along."

" That's not my fault" snipped Draco.

"Please mate, I would do the same if it were you."

"My answer if still no, and I would never be idiotic enough to put myself into a situation like that."

"What do you want from me?" The other boy sighed dramatically. "The rights to the castle grounds, my dragon figurine collection, my first born child?! It's all yours just promise me that you'll come with me next week."

"Leave me alone and out of your love life."

"Come on Draco, we're young, impeccably smart and painfully handsome, any chick would be happy to take what she can get."

"Is that how you really think it is?"

"I got it! What if I promised to lend you any book from my father's private collection when I inherit it in a few years? Any book you want, for however long you want, no questions asked."

Oddly enough the blonde prince could only smirk at this. _Could Blaise even begin to fathom the riches he had just promised? And all for what? A date?! This was centuries of archives he had just handed over, hundreds of thousands of never before seen fragments of history that he- Draco Malfoy- would have a chance to uncover._

"Done"

"Great, I'll see you then."

"Hey Blaise, who's Ginny's dorm mate?"

* * *

 **Hermione's POV**

"No nagging, no bragging, no sweating, no fretting, no slipping, no tripping, no slurping, no burping, no twittering or frittering."

The first class of the day was Mannerism and Etiquette, a class that was strictly taken by princesses. The whole point of the class was to preach the incredibly sexist views of how a woman ought to conduct herself within the aristocratic circles of Europe.

Excluding ballroom dancing, this was her least favorite class as it was taught by the wretched Professor Snape who, in her personal opinion, was a sadistic prick whose greatest pleasure was to inflict suffering to the pupils taught in his class.

In fact, their first ever lesson with the Professor had been something out of a horror novel and the entire class had been subjected to hellish muscle cramps. They had spent the whole hour practicing pose which required them to stand as still as statues for a whole hour, feet shoulder width apart, shoulders arched back at a thirty-degree angle and chins raised no more than a fifth of the length of their palms while the sadistic professor circled them like a shark.

"Weasley why are your eyes lingering!"

"Patil stop your fingers from fidgeting!"

"Abbot find a way to fix that heavy breathing of yours!"

The wretched bastard had been drilling on for what seemed like a century and she fought the urge to slap him every time his mouth opened.

"You are a princess, not a peasant and you should do well to act as if you were. You are not to speak unless you are spoken to, you are not to give your opinion and you certainly do not ask any questions. As future Queens your only purpose is to be wife and mother. Do I make myself clear?"

She felt her hand compulsively shoot up. "But sir, couldn't it be argued that a Queen would be more suited to making domestic decisions as she spends most of her time in the castle whilst the King secures diplomatic agreements with neighbouring countries?"

The rest of her classmates shot her worried looks. "Are you suggesting that the king is not fit for the job?"

"Yes Sir because he's away so much and-"

"I suggest you refrain from finishing that sentence Ms. Granger."

"But Sir-"

"Ten points from Gryffindor."

It took Ginny's foot slamming down on her toes to stop her from yelling something else out at Snape and loosing even more house points.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Whispered Ginny.

"What?" She whispered back. "You know what I said was true."

"That doesn't make it right."

"If the truth is no longer right then I don't know what is."

"You know what I mean"

"No Ginny I most certainly do not know what you mean and if you think for a second that I'm just going to sit here while this sham of a professor preaches these ridiculous beliefs that both undermine and ridicule the very existence of every person in this room, then you are gravely mistaken."

"Ms Granger." It was Snape this time and she realized a little too late that the whole class was now staring at her and Ginny.

She gulped before feigning confidence- at least she'd learn something from the class.

"Yes?" Unfortunately her voice came out as a quiet tremble.

"My office after class, and I suggest that you keep your mouth shut from now on."

She could only nod and she felt the sting of tears pricking at her eyelids.

"50 points from Gryffindor."

* * *

 **Please let me know what you think :) Thanks for taking the time to read this**


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